


And Zip

by InnerSpectrum



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Sherlock gets distracted as he needs to examine John's zipper.





	And Zip

Lestrade and John were standing off to the side conversing quietly and watching me as I took my First Look. It took positively _ages_ to get the detective inspector properly trained to always let me get first crack at a puzzling crime scene. I need data that is not convoluted with the thousand hoo-fprints of the idiots in forensics – namely the complete waste of medulla named Anderson – stomping all over potential information.

  * Male. Late 40s. Body arranged in funeral pose. Red.
  * Dried muddy boot print. Red. No more than two days old.
  * Body is at least – red – four or five days – red.



I keep seeing flashes of red in the peripheral of my line of vision. Yet when I glance up to attempt to pinpoint it, it is gone and I cannot. It annoys me, distracting me from my deductions for there is a sense of the familiar about it. I see it most when I’m facing John and Lestrade so I still myself and focus in that direction.

_Oh hello! There it is._

I now know why the flash of red felt familiar, because it was.

John sees my expression and the smallest frown creases between his brows as he and Lestrade turn slightly towards me.

“Sherlock? You okay?” John asks.

I am not sure how to answer, so I just wave my hand dismissing him as I look down again.

I am well aware that even the politest protocol at this moment would embarrass the doctor. Yet, I cannot focus with the flashes of red distracting me now that I know its source. I try to tear my eyes away. Angle my body so that it is not in my vision.

  * The foot prints are not as old as the body. Red.
  * Someone, red, perhaps the killer, red, was in this
  * Red.
  * Red.
  * Red.



It does not help. It is in my mind palace now.

My mind palace which then floods me with all the times I had seen different flashes of that red the past couple of weeks.

My transport, the traitorous beast, drains thoughts from my mind and delivers them straight to my head. I acknowledge to myself that nothing is going to get done until I address the flashing red.

I slowly stand and walk over to John and Lestrade.

“You got anything Sherlock?” Lestrade looks at me hopefully.

“Tumescence.” I face John whose eyes shift rapidly between Greg and I in confusion.

John gasps and freezes in place completely taken aback as I cup him. I was counting on that exact reaction as I keep my own expression neutral holding those stunned blue eyes with my own. I smirk letting my thumb stroke the material. He turns a most delightful shade of crimson as his breath catches in reaction to my touch. 

He knows I can feel him as his blood flow transfers locations and turns even more red in clear competition with that red. Whether from nervousness or habit he licks his lips as I oh so slowly pull up the zipper of his trousers hiding the bright red of his pants, the cause of my distraction, from view.

I am an _utter, utter cock_ , as John most certainly would call me right now, were he and Lestrade not rendered speechless by my actions.

He cannot possibly become any more red. So, I go for broke as I drop my voice and lean in to whisper in John’s ear.

“Forgive me, John. I had to address the issue, it was _distracting_.”

I stand straight again, delighted for once to learn I was wrong.

John most certainly CAN become more red.

"Sherlock!" it is Lestrade who finds his voice first. "How..? Why...?"

Though I do not move from John, with the distraction of John's red pants out of my head for the moment my eyes flick over the scene once more and everything clicks.

I know it is not the question Lestrade is asking, but I give him my run down of the scene. He blinks, but realizes what I have done and nods as he looks over the scene himself, letting my words sink in.

I look back to John expecting his expression to be murderous. As always John surprises me whenever I presume to think I have him all figured out.

"Took you long enough to notice." John finally chokes out between his teeth as he grins.

"What?!" Lestrade and I say simultaneously.

The next thing I know the former Army captain has me slammed against a wall. The full length of his body leans against mine as he pulls my head down for a kiss.

Our first kiss. And that kiss is _EVERYTHING_.

I am relatively certain there are scorch marks on the wall around me from the heat of his assault on my lips and tongue when he releases me. John gives a perfunctory nod to Lestrade and then stalks out of the room with a single command to me.

"Baker Street. _NOW._ "

I am the one standing there trying to catch my breath, rendered speechless as I grip the wall for support.

"That's what you get for playing with fire." Lestrade laughs in my face at my kiss debauched lips and points to the exit. "I'd suggest you get moving if you know what's good for you."

I do know, now.

I chase after John.


End file.
